Monster's Ball
by thatprettymf
Summary: SLASH/SMUT : CENATON : M/M : "Don't play games with me, Cena! I will destroy you if you touch me again!" I watched as he smirked, raised his eyebrows and touched the fabric of my expensive blazer, "I've had you once. I'll have you again if I feel like it, just like I had Dawn." Adult Content, Adult Language, Adult Situations.


**12-27-2013**

**Dedicated To:** _Anyone who loves Cenaton slash/smut and Dawn Marie as much as I do (:_  
**Disclaimer**: _Sadly, I don't own Randy Orton, nor do I own John Cena. FML._  
**Words: 7,743**

**Monster's Ball**

_"I wanna just dance, but he took me home instead_  
_Oh oh, there was a monster in my bed."_

**- Lady Gaga **_"Monster"_

o1.  
**Monster**  
_That boy is a Monster._

I've finally understood and found the reasoning and way for having all I want in my life. It's called the power of 3 and I feel no shame for indulging in my 3 ways of love. Let me explain this to you because it's simple: There's the power of 3. The 3 loves of my life: Money, Sex and Companionship.

**Money: **I own a firm and corporation that deals in stocks. Coming from nothing, I've decided at a young age that money would be one of the first loves I've ever developed in my life. Taking over and making the _AnvilBryan _Stock company, we've had six consecutive quarters of the Black and Asian in our firm, not only giving us good publicity but more customers. I make over $3,000,000 a year and I'm in the state of my life that I have made so much money that I'll never have to work a day again. At 25 years old, I've seen the world over 10 times; I have more fine Cuban cigars than Tony Montana had ever smoked or seen in his life; I have more Armani and Versace suits and loafers than one could imagine. Living in New York, I decide to partake and live in the sin and joy the great City can provide for me. Money brings women. Money brings cars. Money brings the expensive and lavish penthouse that I live in. Money also buys me all the liqour in the world I can drink, which is another love of mine, but not as strong as the Power of 3. In the previous year, I've been to therapy - which is a crock full of shit. Anyone who pays $100 an hour to whine and complain about their problems to a fucking person who sits there and in a monochromatic tone asks, "And how does that make you feel?" Is a dumbass and deserves to be swindled out of their money - and my former therapist, Alicia says that I have a problem and obsession with money and I am a "fierce, alcoholic." Those are her words, not mine. I don't know what happened to Alicia, though. I fucked her once on the desk in her office and after she repeatedly called my penthouse asking to see me and I refused, I heard she moved out of Manhattan, out of New York and somewhere across the world from me. I only spent a few grand on my sessions, so it doesn't matter to me.

**Sex: **We're put on the world to produce and_ reproduce_. We produce jobs, love, money and the sights and controversy that falls into the abyss of the world. We're here to reproduce to keep the cycle of humans coming in the world. I like sex. I really do. There's nothing wrong with feeling flesh ontop of flesh and my sweat mixing in with some bimbo's skin that I picked up easily. I like the women who I know wait around in expensive outfits, just waiting for someone to pick them up and fuck them silly and dispose of them like trash. Sex makes me feel powerful and I love the atmosphere of it. I've never fucked someone and been in a relationship with them. No no no. I haven't done that since I was in high school. I like the excitement and thrill of not knowing someone and seeing how long it'll take me to convince them into letting me fuck them. I experiment with all aspects of sex. I like dominance and control. I've experienced in threesomes, whips and chains, men and women. _Everything_. I'm open minded. I like to try new things and there's nothing wrong with that fact. Sex is all about new things and control.

**Companionship: **I met Dawn on a cold, Winter day in a Starbucks. She had on a tight winter white skirt-suit with white stockings and white Louis Vuitton heels that matched the large, white checkerboard Louis Vuitton purse that sat in front of her. Her face was made up to perfection with Mac makeup and her dark, brown hair was fluffed into big curls. A faux, white fur hat sat on her head. Large diamond earrings the size of walnuts were lodged into her lobes. Diamond jewelry flooded her neck and wrists. A fine pair of white, Chanel gloves were on her hands. She had beautiful, tanned Olive skin and I could tell she was easily of Italian descent. When I walked into the Starbucks in my dark Armani suit, we locked eyes and the attraction was instantly there. We fucked that same night in the back of my Mercedes. Even though I picked her up easily, I could tell there was something different about Dawn. Something about her... personality and demeanor was different. After talking to her and taking her out to dinner, I realized I had more in common with this woman than I thought I did. We both liked the same kinds of movies, the same kinds of music , the same kinds of sports and the same kinds of clothes. She was up on things going on not only in fashion and in pop culture, but in the news and in stocks. She was educated and all around perfect. I made plans to whisk her away to some foreign place like France or Asia or something and propose to her, but I quickly found Dawn was married. She'd been cheating on her husband with me for the first 6 months of our friendship and she felt no remorse about it. I had never even noticed the diamond ring on her left hand.

_"Will you leave him for me?" I asked Dawn one night over dinner and a bottle of red wine._

_"No," She replied back smoothly as she raised a perfectly arched eyebrow at me. She grabbed a piece of asparagus off her plate and bit into it hardly._

_"Dawn..."_

_"Don't beg, Randy. That's pathetic. You're better than that,"_

I decided to ditch the romantic feelings I had for her, ditch the fucking and keep the friend. We managed to keep our friendship for the past 3 years strictly platonic and no feelings of romance or love came in the way. We still sent each other looks of lust here and there but we never acted upon said looks. Dawn was happy being married with her chump of a husband and I was happy finding solace in booze, money, cigars and all the Gucci, Versace, Armani suits and loafers and Mercedes and Range Rovers I could buy. Dawn was the only friend in the world I had next to Jack Daniels and Whiskey and I was perfectly okay with that. Dawn Marie was the love of my life, but I could never have her. She was the only woman I truly did love, but since she didn't love me the way I loved her, I decided that having her as an ally would be better than not having her at all.

That's it. That's the Power of 3. Those are the 3 things that keep me grounded and in love with my life. My money, Sex and Dawn. How many other people have 3 things in their lives that makes them so happy? Most people say stupid shit like their _families _make them happy, their _boyfriend or girlfriend_ makes them happy; _God _makes them happy. Stupid shit like that is the reason why the only person who I come into very close contact with is Dawn. She doesn't bullshit me with excuses about what makes her happy. I don't bullshit myself either with what makes me happy. I know what I want out of life and I continue to seek it with ease. I'm 25-years-old; I'm in the best shape of my life; I'm wealthy; I get pussy served to me on a platter; I have the best friend in the world that anybody could ask for.

What more could I want out of life?

As I walked into the Chanel store, my eyes wandered around in search for Dawn. I quickly found her sitting one of the plush, royal red couches in the store with a _People _magazine in her hand. Her eyes jumped with joy on the magazine she was reading. I could see Brad Pitt and Angelina Jolie on the cover of the magazine, so it probably had to do something with him. Some stupid movie he was doing was probably coming out that she would be dying to see. As I strolled in with my plain, white cotton Hanes V neck shirt, black jacket and a pair of dark Calvin Klein jeans on, I smiled when I saw what Dawn was wearing.

A black leather jacket, a plain white tank top, dark jeans and white and black Coach sneakers on her feet. Gold jewelry crowded her neck and ears. Her dark hair was pulled up into a large, elegant bun that sat on the top of her head and she wore little makeup. She still looked beautiful. As I walked up to her, she gave a big smile and her short frame hugged my taller frame instantly.

"Hi sweetie," She said, trying her best not to get a print of her pale pink lipstick on the fabric of my shirt, "You look good today. I love the tattoos," She said, as she pulled down my jacket to a small degree and motioned to the my ink filled and covered arms. I had recently gotten sleeve tattoos on my both arms, which my tattoo artist - who was a woman - said would add to my ruggedness.

Pulling away from me, she grabbed my hand and we began to walk aimlessly around the store. I watched Dawn pick up suits, hats, shoes and jewelry before she shook her head in distaste and put all the items back on the rack. Finally, we found a few pairs of items Dawn liked and she would always look at me and wait for a nod or shake of the head for my approval of what she picked out. She took me shopping with her for approval of her things and it was vice-versa. I did the same with her.

"I'm having a party tonight over at the Trump," Dawn began before she began to fish around in her Marc Jacobs purse, "I'll trust you be there,"

"I don't know Dawn. You know I hate parties," I told her with a frown.

She rolled her eyes and pulled out her Chanel wallet before reaching for her credit card. "You're such a sour puss, Randy. Get real. What's the last party you've been to? All you do is work and work and work. Live a little. Everyone's coming to meet the famous Randy Orton,"

I scoffed. "Oh really?"

"Yes, _really_," She replied back as she gave the cashier her Credit Card and awaited for her bags full of her clothes. "I actually have one very special guest that says they can't _wait _to see you in person," With the eroticism in her voice, I couldn't resist to become interested in what she was saying.

"Is _she_ cute?" I asked.

"Of course honey!" Dawn said as she reached over and grabbed her large Chanel bags full of her new designer clothes. "In fact, _he's_ a _real _dreamboat,"

'He?' What the fuck was Dawn talking about when she said 'he?' Curiosity got the best of me.

"I might stop by," I said in a mumble as my blue eyes focused on her pretty face. She broke out in a big grin that made me want to instantly smile back.

She moved over to the exit doors of the store and looked at me up and down, causing me to give her a deep look of lust in her dark eyes. The curves of her body was perfect. Big breasts, flat stomach with perfect curves, nice sized hips and legs that went up and made a perfect ass out of themselves. She gripped the handles of her bags and said once more before leaving, "It wouldn't kill you to shave either, _Wolverine_," She gave me a playful smirk and wink before she dismissed herself and left to her white Beamer car.

I turned my head and looked into one of the mirrors in the store and looked at the subtle that was growing in on my face. I chuckled silently before I left the store and got in my Benz and drove on home with the thoughts of Dawn and her party on my mind. I thought about this special guest and became annoyed that she didn't even give me a hint on who it was. If it was anyone I knew... I would just quickly leave. I had no time to be bothered with old flames and old fucks. Dawn was quite the socialite and knew an abundant of people from Manhattan to Queens to the Bronx to Brooklyn so I was in no surprise that she would throw a party and people would be asking to see me. It would probably be packed so I knew she wasn't telling me a lie.

But than that made me think about my original thought:

Who was her special guest?

* * *

_"Will you at least think about it, Dawn?"_

_"Randy, for the thousandth time, stop fucking asking me to leave Al! I won't do it!"_

_"He's a fucking geezer, Dawn! He's 40 years older than you and he probably has to use fucking viagra just to fucking fuck you! Why don't you move in with me?!"_

_"Goodbye, Randy. I'm leaving,"_

_The only problem with this scene was, I didn't want Dawn to leave. I usually didn't show emotions when it came to other women. I was used to my routine of fucking them, leaving them and never bothering to call or see them again, but Dawn, this woman... I loved her. I knew she was married and I didn't give a fuck. If she told me she would want to leave her old husband and move in with me, I'd send U-Hauls over to Pellham Bay and get her things with ease. I don't know exactly what Al Wilson was giving Dawn that I wasn't but all I knew is, Dawn couldn't get away from me. Not at this moment and not at this time._

_As she got up from the bed, her naked skin was exposed to me. I had the air condition in my penthouse on so her nipples were hard and standing at full attention. Her body looked flawless with every step she took as she began to look around for her bra and panties. As she located them on and put them on in a rush, she looked at me and rolled her eyes in annoyance before stalking into my bathroom. I could see her trying to fix her disheveled hair in the mirror. We had been fucking for at least 3 hours and her dark, brown locks looked wild and frizzy. As she walked out, she looked instantly glamorous again like how she did when she walked in. She placed on her strappless tribal print top, white high waisted pants and white blazer. A pair of white stilettos trapped her feet and a lime green Michael Kors tote-bag rested on her shoulder._

_Carrie Bradshaw had nothing on Dawn's sense of fashion._

_She rolled her eyes at me when she saw me drinking from a bottle of Whiskey and beginning to fish in my Cigar box. She hated how much I drank, but I didn't care. I was pissed; Pissed at Dawn for not wanting to move in with me and pissed at myself for being such a bitch and letting my emotions get the best of me. As I began to smoke, I looked at her and blinked as I ran a hand over my bald head. _

_"Dawn, come back to bed," I told her in a hard, demanding voice as I continued to smoke and drink._

_"No," She looked at me and shook her head. "Go call one of your whores and tell them to come back to bed,"_

_"Dawn, get in the bed, __**now**__,"_

_"Goodbye, Randy," She said again as she walked out my room and grabbed her car keys off my coffee table without stopping her march. When she had the door open to leave, she jumped in shock when I quickly slammed it back with one hand, locked it with the other and then placed both hands over her, trapping her in the little space and forcing her to move her back to the door. I grabbed her by her chin roughly and forced her to look at me._

_"Do you like making me look fucking stupid?" I asked her in a tone that I never used with her. I moved closer to her ear and grabbed her chin tighter, "I give you every-fucking-thing and the very least you could do is fucking move in with. What the fuck more do you want from me?" My hand moved from her chin and to her wrist as I quickly gripped it tightly, making the skin around her wrist to turn red._

_She looked scared, shocked and somewhat intrigued by my sense of attack on her. "Randy," She spoke in a tone that let me know she was scared, "Let me go,"_

_"Fucking answer me!" I yelled as I banged the door with my free hand in annoyance and anger. "What fucking more do you want from me?!" The veins began to pop out of my neck as my skin flushed red with anger._

_A tear rolled down her cheek, the first time Dawn had ever showed me a sense of vulnerability. "Please," Was all she said in a quiet tone._

_Breathing heavy, I let her go and went to sit on the suede L couch I had placed in the living room. "Let yourself out," I told her rudely as I stalked back into my bedroom and placed a pair of black Nike sweatpants on my body. I had no desire for the cigar I was smoking - I quickly put it out. The bottle of Whiskey looked perfect. I wrapped my lips around the opening and took a deep swallow of the booze as I went over to the window and saw Dawn walk over to her car. She looked up and stared back at me as I stared down at her from the window. I watched as she looked away and got in her car as she sped off._

_That was the last time I fucked Dawn and the first time I ever raised my voice to her and made her cry._

As I let the valet take my Mercedes and park it, I went into the Trump hotel and told the woman behind the front desk that I was looking for the party Dawn was hosting. She told me the directions and where to go and I quickly went, not before she took a moment out of her time to flirt with me and tell me her phone number. As I walked into the party, I was quickly undetected. So far, so good. A kid who looked like he was still in high-school came up to me with a box of cigars and offered that I take one. I quickly did and he lit it for me. Enjoying the rich taste, I stalked forward into the party, not bothering to say excuse me when I bumped into other people. I saw a few familiar faces and quite a few people did tell me hello. Who knew I was Mr. Popular? Dawn had told me to dress to impress so I wore a navy blue Gucci suit with black Gucci loafers and a Gucci white button down shirt with an un-done bow-tie. It wasn't that I was trying to make myself look sexy and rugged, but just for the fact that I wanted to wear the bow-tie, but I was too lazy to tie it together. I hadn't bothered to shave, but I knew I looked just as fine as if I did.

The Trump Hotel brings back many memories of countless nightcaps with random beauties that I had just met off the street and stolen nights and whispered secrets over trays and quarters of containers of Chinese Food that Dawn and I have had in one of the large, luxurious rooms. I didn't know the occasion for Dawn's party, but I was somewhat happy that I decided to come and get away from the numbers and stock reports that would've plagued me tonight if I had stayed home.

As I moved forward, I could see Dawn standing there, looking as beautiful as ever. A tight, white strapless gown covered her body and a diamond-beaded headpiece ran over her vintage curl hairstyle. She looked like a graceful movie star from the '30s. Diamond jewelry ran along her body and I wanted to quickly rip her dress off and fuck her in the middle of the dance-floor. When she saw me, she grinned and waited for me to come over before she gave me a deep hug.

"So glad you could show up," Dawn said. "You look handsome," She released me from her embrace and looked me over once more as she nodded her head in approval.

"Well thank you," I saw her smiling at me as hard as ever and a tear rolled down her cheek. Blinking in confusion I asked, "Why are you crying?"

"Oh, I'm not crying. It's just one little tear. It's out of happiness," She said vainly as she looked in her compact mirror, making sure her tear didn't ruin her makeup.

"Are you happy I came?"

"Mhmmm,"

"I haven't made you cry since-"

"Don't even say it," She said with a roll of her eyes in an edge in her voice. As she turned, the curve of her back was exposed which looked erotic in it's own sense. She lifted her hand and with a perfectly manicured finger she pointed, "I see our guest has arrived. Wait here, I'll get him," Before I could protest she was already gone, leaving me by myself.

I continued to smoke cigar and lean on the wall as I looked at my watch and wondered what time the party would be over. It seemed as if over 200 people were in here and the party was in full swing. A jazz band was playing while the two lead singers - a man and a woman - did a duet of old Frank Sinatra and the Rat Pack songs. Continuing to smoke, I was in a daze of the cigar, the music and all the women giving me looks of lust. I was feeling the urge to grab one of them and take them home with me and just leave Dawn's party, but she had requested I stay and wait for her so, I did.

Besides, I wanted to see who was the guest of honor that wanted to see me.

"Randy," My head snapped up as Dawn's voice broke my trance, "This is John. He developed that new building down by the MARTA station. John, this is Randy,"

I looked over and saw the sexiest thing I could've possibly seen all night.

John wasn't as tall as me, but he was still tall in his own right, he looked as if he had to be an inch or two shorter than me. He had a head full of short, cropped dark brown hair and tanned skin with blue orbs and an athletic build that made me think he did nothing but lift weights all day and all night. He was dressed in an impeccable black suit with an orange tie (which I thought was a weird color) and a white shirt with black oxfords on his feet. As I looked up at him, he smiled, showing me a pair of deep, childish dimples. He was _handsome_. He was _beautiful_. He was a _God_. He continued to smile and offered me his hand to shake.

"Nice to meet you, Randy," He spoke, giving me an unrecognizable look in his eyes that stared into mine. "Dawn's told me alot about you,"

Dawn smiled and grabbed a glass of champagne off the tray of the waiter who had passed us, "I'll leave you two alone now," Before she quickly left I heard her say, "Hello, Gail! Smooches to you! I love your dress!"

Breaking our handshake, I went back to smoking my cigar and eyeing the specimen in front of me, "Dawn tells me you wanted to meet me,"

"Yeah," He spoke in a hushed, deep tone. "She mentions you alot; shown me a few pictures of you. Just had to meet you in person. Besides, I heard your name on the news the other day about the stock company,"

"Oh yeah, that's right. I forgot we were being featured on the news," I shrugged and blew out a breath of smoke from the cigar, "Orange, huh?"

"What?"

I motioned over to his tie, "Orange. It's a weird color for a tie, don't you think?"

He smiled and his dimples returned to my view, "Naw," He replied in an accent that made me think he was from the Streets, "I like to switch things up a little. Nothing wrong with a little different things every once and a while. It's good to try new things,"

"Oh yeah?" I scoffed rudely for reasons I don't know. It was just out of habit. I took another inhale of the cigar before exhaling.

He nodded before giving me a look, "Don't you like to try _new_ things?"

"The only thing I want to try right now is _sleep_," I spoke in an aggravated tone. I moved myself off the wall and tried to walk past him as I spoke over my shoulder, "It was nice meeting you, John,"

As I tried to walk off I felt something snap onto my wrist and made me quickly stop and move back into place. John had his large hand wrapped around my wrist and he looked me deep in the eyes before licking his lips and breaking out in a deep dish smile.

"Sleep, huh?" He began in a tone that was highly inappropriate and highly dripping with sex, "_Sleep_. Dawn tells me you have a penthouse about 40 minutes from here,"

I pulled my wrist back and stared at him, "Yeah, I do. What about it?"

"If you're so tired, we could just _sleep together_," He said in a hushed tone that was meant for the bedroom.

Usually, this was one of my moves. I would flirt and trap my way into the sexual system of women and convince them to go home with me as quick as possible. Now, this has been the first time the tables have been turned. I don't know whether I wanted to feel flattered and surprised, or angry and vengeful. Looking him up and down, I titled my head and snarled in response before I turned my back and walked off, checking my watch while I searched for Dawn. It was only 11:00 in the morning and the party was still going on. The night was still young. I looked back to where I left John and blinked in surprise when he was gone. I raised an eyebrow and didn't bother to look around and plan a search party for him. Finding Dawn, I gripped her tanned arm and moved her away from the group of women she was talking to, not before I gave them all a look to let them know I would be back for one of them before I made my exit and my way back home. Looking down at her, she stared up at me with confusion before she crossed her arms and her full lips broke out into a devious grin.

"You sly dog," Dawn said, looking me over, "Makin' plans on leaving with, Cena, already?"

"Shut up, Dawn!" I spoke to her in a hushed tone, "Why didn't you tell me about him?"

"What do you mean?"

"Something about him... it's not right. He's like... he's _off _or something,"

"I think that every-time I see you, darling," Dawn spoke before she broke out into a beautiful quiet laugh. She looked over and stopped another waiter and grabbed a tall glass full of red wine off the silver tray. She brought her lips to the tip of it and took a quick sip before nodding in approval with it's taste. "I never thought I'd see the day, but it's come,"

"What are you talking about?"

"I'm talking about how the big, bad, _drunken_, sex-a-holic _monster _Randy Orton is _scared _that someone is trying to fuck him silly like how he does to all these stupid women,"

"Fuck you! I'm not scared," I told her in a hushed tone. "If I'm scared, _shoot me_,"

Dawn shook her head before continuing to sipping her wine. In a quick motion, she closed all her fingers except for her index and thumb. Sticking her index finger out and her thumb up, she made the impression of a gun with her fingers before she aimed it at me and 'fired it' off while making a, "_Pow_!" imitation shooting noise. She laughed some more before shaking her head. I blinked at her in annoyance before she gave me an innocent shrug that reminded me a little girl would do when she was caught in some sort of trouble.

"God, I crack myself up," Dawn laughed some more before moving herself away from me, "Have fun, darling. The night is still young," She walked off and disappeared into the sea of different people in the party.

Shaking my head, I stalked over to the bar before sitting down and burying my head in my hands. I actually wanted to leave and just end the night by falling into my bed and going to sleep, but Dawn had challenged me and was questioning my pride, which was one of the things I held the closest to me in the world. I couldn't have her questioning my pride, but I wasn't going to stay here all night just to please her. Also, I _refused _to end the night with my head _buried _in John Cena's lap and him in my bed. I checked my phone and noticed I had a few missed calls that I would plan to get to in the morning. I looked over to my right and saw a _beautiful_ woman who looked like she had to be of Asian or Korean descent. I recognized her as the same woman Dawn had called out to earlier in the night. _Gail_. Hmm. Just as I was getting ready to approach her, the busty, blonde bartender stopped me.

"Mr. Orton, someone has sent a drink for you,"

I raised an eyebrow at the glass of Whiskey in front of me before I raised an eyebrow at the bartender. "Oh, really? And just who is that?"

She shrugged before smiling, "Maybe a secret admirer," She disappeared to go on and take the order of another customer.

Looking the glass over, I looked down my right again and saw Gail staring at me before she gave me a small wave and a beautiful smile. Ah, the drink was from _her_. Okay. I would partake in her little games for now. As I lifted my glass to her, she did the same and gave me a small wink before she sipped from her white wine and began talking to a woman next to her. As I began to drink, I heard the band beginning to play more music, but now the male voice was absent and the only voice heard was the woman's - who began to do a cover of Shirley Bassey's, _Diamonds Are Forever_. As the band began to play and the woman moved her hips and let out the beautiful notes to the song, I felt dizzy. I felt as if I was going to have a anxiety attack and fall right out of the chair and onto the floor. Getting up, I left the drink there and began to move through and sway through the crowds of rich people, wealthy socialites and famous faces before I found myself outside and away from the music. Away from Dawn. Away from all the looks of lust. Away from all the booze and cigars that were in my system.

Most importantly, away from John Cena.

_"I don't need love / For what good will love do me?_  
_Diamonds never lie to me / For when love's gone, they luster on..."_

Even though I was outside, I could still hear the audible notes of the woman singing.

Dizzy. Choking. Falling. Dying. I was dizzy and I had no slight clue what was going on. It wasn't that I couldn't handle my liquor, because I surely could. I could always handle booze and however it would make me feel later on in the day. It was the fact that, I didn't know what was going on. I felt as if I was going to drop and die right then and right there. As I gripped the handle to open the door of my Mercedes, I closed my eyes and tried to retrace my steps. I met with Dawn. I met with John Cena. Cena was being an asshole and trying to fuck me. I went to the bar and was making plans to leave with Gail. I got a drink delivered to me and I drunk it and then I-

The drink.

It was the _drink_.

Just as I was about to waltz back in and ask the bartender about the drink I had received, I blacked out and fell to my knees instantly.

* * *

_"Mr. Orton, there's a package here for you at front desk,"_

"W-What? I... Jesus, what time is it?"

_"10 A.M., sir,"_

"God, just... s-send it up,"

_"Okay, sir. Right away,"_

_Knock. Knock. _

_Shuffles of the feet. Groaning. Dizziness. A bright smile greets me at the door._

_"Package, Mr. Orton,"_

"Who from?"

_"Uhh, don't know! Doesn't say! Just know it's shipped to you, sir!"_

"Okay, thanks,"

I sat down on my couch and ripped the package and tape open with the scissors I had located on the coffee table. Ripping it open and letting my hands fall and move against the rough, cardboard I searched and looked around for some clue to who the sender may be, but I was unsuccessful. Shaking my head, I looked down and saw I was only in a pair of my boxers which bewildered me. I reached inside the box and pulled out nothing but a glass that was meant for holding whiskey and other sorts of liquor. I also pulled out a small sheet of paper that read nothing but: _Gotcha_. I had no idea what the glass and the the note meant, but I was already starting to get a feeling of it deep in the pit of my stomach. Throwing the package and it's insides down, I marched into my bedroom and stared at my body in the mirror and blinked at what I saw back in return.

Rough red bruises were all over my body and hickies stained my neck. I had so many hickies I looked like a leopard. Confused was the word that was written on my face and emotions. I went over to my king sized bed and sat down before I brought my hands to my face and shook my head before I went into my kitchen and looked for a bottle of whiskey. I poured myself a glass and downed it quickly. I paced around the entire kitchen before I felt my back slide against the cold, silver refrigerator and I sat on the floor. I closed my eyes as I tried my hardest to remember.

What did I do last night?

_Skin._

_I can feel his naked flesh against mine and it feels great. Beautiful, maybe. It's erotic and I just love it._

_His lips pull and tear at mine as we move further and further into my bedroom. I was never really one to close my eyes during kissing, so they just wandered around while our mouths tussled and wrestled with each other. His tongue tasted like fresh cinnamon and a rich spearmint. It's oddly pleasing to my system. Hands are moving all over our bodies and it isn't until I feel his hands reach below my tanned abs and onto my black belt that I feel heat rush between us. The platinum and silver Rolex watch I had placed around my right wrist, jingles and moves up and down as I force his neck closer to me as his tongue moves deeper and deeper into my mouth, almost as if it's trying to create some sort of tunnel._

_We tussle ourselves around on the bed for what seems moments to see who will get the dominant upper hand. I've already ripped the deep black Armani blazer from his body and the white button down shirt from his amazing upper body and muscles are exposed to me. His six pack is shown and is absolutely rock hard from what I've felt, just like the erection he has is as hard as stone. He groaned in complete pleasure when I lowered my head to his neck and bit it before sticking and moving my tongue out, licking and rolling my tongue around on his neck in a complete circular motion. As I wrestled myself around on the bed, making myself become on top of him and completely overpowering his frame, I grabbed his tan wrists and forced them against the polished mahogany colored wooden headboard. _

_Both of our clothes were shed which completely left us in the raw. My clothes were in a pile in the middle of the living room, scattered all over the floor and his clothes were practically torn and ripped all over the bedroom floor. I've never really been… intimate with men before. During my college days, yes of course. I've gotten that "phase" outta my system. As a fully grown man, no; Women have always been my choice of sex, really. Maybe it's just out of the fact that they've exposed and placed themselves towards me instead of the other way around. As my head moves lower and lower down his abs, I have to realize this is a game. Maybe even a dream. Fuck it. It's not real. I don't have these emotions of want and pursuit for anyone. Lying on the cool, silk sheets of the bed, I reach out and feel for his wrist, my hand grazing the 1,000 thread count sheets before I finally locate his wrist. I grab them tightly and hear as he groans slightly in pleasure I assume, indicating he's pleased. I smirk to myself momentarily before my tongue grazes over his abs and then to the head of his tan cock. Instinct tells me to continue and as my mouth and tongue falls and swirls all around it like a cherry lollipop, I begin to lose myself in the ecstasy of the whole situation. I'm probably enjoying myself more than he is. His cock his heavy in my mouth, indicating how big and thick it is and as I bob my head up and down on it, I can feel the veins pop out of it, I can hear the increase and panting in his breath, I can feel him press his hand on my head. As I open my eyes slightly and trace them up to his face, I can see his eyes are closed; his chest is moving up and down rapidly with every increasing breath he takes._

"_Fuck yes… Shit, don't stop."_

_Pre-cum falls out and it makes me squirm into anticipation, confusion, curiosity, and lust all in the same time. As I try to move my head up and catch my breath from the quick speed I deliver on him, I feel him push my head back down, showing he doesn't want any interruptions. It turns me on even more then he already has. There it is. When I start to deep throat, I can feel him squirm and thrust his cock deeper into my mouth as he starts to fuck my throat with intense speed and velocity. Almost there. He's there - probably unable to take it anymore – and he cries out intense pleasure before all the white cum rushes out and into my mouth. I swallow instantly on contact and I don't find it as disgusting or as bad as I thought it would. To be honest, I'd never given anyone head before. I just tried my best to mimic what women have done to be in past passionate trysts. I pull my head up and bite down on his neck for a small moment before he moves his head and kisses me smack dab on the mouth. _

_Fuck, his lips are great. They're soft and a little chapped with makes for one of the most pleasurable kisses that I've had in a great while. Simultaneously, we both reach of each other's manhood, almost as if we could reach each other's mind. His lips don't move from mine and his tongue doesn't become unwrapped with mine. He has certainly taught me more things that no other woman has. In a way, it's like a contest. It becomes enwrapped on who can beat the other off the best way and in the best speed. His hips buck against mine and it comes with the point that I can't take it anymore. We both cum at the same time and let out groans. Slowly in control. As I lay next to him, trying to catch my breath, I catch him licking my cum off his hand which turns me on in more ways than one._

I got up and walked back over to the package. I looked down and picked up the little note of paper. I just looked and stared at the word that was written. I stared at it the correct way, upside down, side to side, from every possible direction I could think of. I grabbed my bottle of Whiskey and drank it as I stared at the word once more.

_Gotcha_.

John Cena had got me and I'm sure this wouldn't be the last time he would have me, either.

_"Look at him, look at me. That boy is bad..."_

* * *

**A/N:**  
_*Rich Homie Quan voice, sings* Heard she could do tricks with her mouth... no, sike, I joke, I joke, HI EVERYONE. how yall doing? Okay, so here's the first installment. Hoped everyone liked it, yada yada yada. You know, I wanted to do something different. Like, I wanted to do a Cenaton story but I wanted it to be different then any other story I had written. I wanted to have Randy on top of the world, with money, fine clothes and cars and booze at his every whim. Yes, I have made Randy a troubled and sexy alcoholic and sex-o-holic in this story, isn't it great? Dawn Marie, iono, I just wanted her to be in the story. I think Dawn Marie and Randy Orton would've looked great together. I just wanted him to have some sort of female companionship... a woman he truly does trust and love and a woman he's lost his heart too, so, in came Dawn Marie. I personally like their relationship together, don't you guys? Cena... everyone writes him being vunerable, easy to love, protective, just like how his character is in WWE. They write him being Randy's savior and the only person Randy truly does love in life._

_NAW. NOPE. NOT ME. NOT I. lol I wanted to write him differently, give him an edge. So I made him a person who is somewhat like Randy, just more sinister. I thought it would be cool, so, yeah, can everyone fuck with me making him like this? Yeah? *sings* fuck with me, you know I got it! Okay, so I'm going to end this authors note. You guys get the idea. Randy's an alcoholic who finds solace in booze, sex and money. John's an architect who's just _**way **_too sinister and dangerous, even for Randy Orton. Dawn's Randy's true love but he realizes he can never have her so she becomes his best friend. YES: John drugged Randy's drink. He was Randy's secret admirier who sent him a drink when he was at the bar. He pretty muched fucked Randy in a somewhat unconscience state. *plays dramatic music* THE PLOT THICKENS. _

_All the songs in this story will be inspired by: Lady GaGa. why? cause she's dope as fuck. _

_yall come back for the second chapter now, ya hear?_


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